Die Traumdeutung
by A Ceramic Girl
Summary: It wasn't as if she could expect him to be conventional in his methods, given what his work was. ArthurxAriadne, One-shot, fluff.


"_Ariadne_,"

She felt, more than heard, him breathe her name into her skin; nose skimming across her jawline as he buried himself once more in her hair.

Pressed against his chest as she was, she felt every deliberate breath he took as he attempted to lock her scent into memory. Or so she guessed, as that was what she herself was doing.

Her brow slid against her cheek as she ducked into the curve of his neck, feeling the slight scrape of stubble across her skin.

He pulled away from her slightly, to look her in the eye before he seemed to admire every other feature. He ran his hands through her hair, brushing it back from her face.

"Arthur," she began, returning the favor of his inspection and beginning to say something she knew was at once completely pointless but at the same time, severely important.

Apparently, he felt there were more pressing things to be done, and he leaned in for a kiss.

Ariadne had no complaints, even when the tightness of his grip around her proved counterproductive to breathing. Though; there could be other causes for that, too.

He drew back once more to look at her, before kissing her cheek, just under her jaw, and finall the knuckles of each hand.

Ariadne pulled one of her hands away from his, and laid it against his cheek and jaw, feeling him lean ever so slightly into her palm, closing his eyes as he did so.

She combed it through his hair, then stroked the side of his face with her knuckles. She began to lightly trace the contours of his face – and when her fingertips brushed his lips, he kissed those, too.

Down his jaw, to his neck she trailed, and then slipped her hand inside the collar of his shirt to lay her palm flat against his chest, feeling his heart beating through her fingers.

Eyes closed as they were, Arthur was clearly unprepared when her lips found his once more, but he pressed himself to her with sweet warmth. She lifted her other hand to his chest, to feel the ridge of his collarbone beneath her fingertips as his arms went round her back and his fingers entangled themselves in her hair.

They kissed, focusing on nothing but their combined heat and mingling breath.

Ariadne ended up with her whole body curled against Arthur's, in a quiet place of half-asleep as he whispered into her hair.

She sleepily traced the seams and edges of his shirt and vest, then the more sinuous – and more interesting – lines of the bone and muscle underneath that.

The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, wrapping her mind a haze of rash thoughts.

But tucked inside it – the smell of Arthur himself – made her feel even fuzzier.

"That's not fair," she muttered, speech slurred by her drowsiness.

She could hear the smile in his voice when he responded.

"What isn't?"

"Your cologne. It makes me want to kiss you all over again."

Ariadne didn't get another chance to hear his smile, but she sure felt it as Arthur pressed his mouth to hers.

* * *

Ariadne opened her eyes to find herself in one of the old lawn chairs in the warehouse.

She supposed she had dozed off.

...And dreamed the whole thing.

She sighed, and pulled her totem out of her pocket. Cobb advised using them whenever one woke up.

She set the chess piece down on the table next to her and flicked it.

It fell over, and refused to offer her any other explanation.

She'd been sleeping, merely dreaming of Arthur. She fought the waves of self-pity, took a deep breath to clear her head, and began to get up, to go home.

There was a sharp pain in her arm.

She was connected to the Paciv machine.

Ariadne removed the IV as quickly as she could, trying to remember if they'd been running any tests, and who should have been with her when she awoke.

Once freed, she looked about her for information. She followed a second IV line to another chair where it draped across the arm and hung limply.

The lingering scent of cologne made her feel very peculiar indeed.

* * *

A/N: A moment of silence, please. And let us consider what a sly dog Arthur is.

I get the feeling him courting her would be rather roundabout and sneaky, haha. Even if just for my own amusement.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and please tell me what you liked and what you thought I could improve on!

I will never be sorry for writing fluff. Never.

-ACG


End file.
